Creu Had Gained a Full Understanding
by Wanting Memories
Summary: In a horrible event, Creu-the once Warforged, now human woman-reflects on her apparent weakness. Written to explain a sudden character change at the end of our game, and why she adopted a new religion.


There were few things in this world of which Creu had gained a full understanding. Perhaps if she had the memories of her past warforged self, things would be different. You could even argue that had she been given a more masculine metal form, then a male flesh form, perhaps she may have been forced to grow up a bit. However, in most situations, it was safe to say the girl was clueless.

* * *

><p>There was simply no sound to be heard.<p>

Creu didn't really have a firm grasp of sex. She certainly didn't know it could be forced. There was no word like "rape" in her vocabulary, and she'd never heard of such a thing. She supposed though, that if there could be so many other unwanted situations forced upon her flesh, sex could be one as well.

It was painful; there was no help from playful touches beforehand. There were no words of explanation or reassurance. There was nothing from this man, this thing that was within. There weren't even guttural sounds such as grunts or moans. He was and had been completely silent. Worst of all, so was she.

The only sound that pounded into her brain as it went on were her own upset cries. Not for what she was currently losing—blood, dignity, and control—but for what she might gain. It would be one thing to have had the children with a friend and from her own stupidity, but to have one this way…

_Don't come inside, don't come inside. Oh please don't come inside!_

And then if she were to accept it, which she may, then grow fond of it, which had occurred before…then to lose it as she did before…

_Don't come inside!_

Tears fell from her eyes, but she didn't make a sound.

There was a grunt from the man above her—the first vocalization he'd made yet. It almost made him human enough for her to forgive.

Then he was gone from her, having pulled out nearly violently enough to cause more wounds. She hissed at the feeling—her first sound—then spotted the new person.

From above he came at the man whose pelvis was still against hers, and brained him for what appeared to be the second time across the temple. A small trace of his blood fell into her mouth, and she licked it away. _So that's why he grunted._

She dug her elbows into the dirt below her, and pushed herself back, closing her legs as she went. The man—she was sure he was another man—who seemingly came to her rescue, gripped the other by the throat and hauled him with surprising strength away from her. Her attacker had been a large man; able to keep her down with solely his weight, but Creu watched as he was thrown like a ragdoll into the wall across the alley from where she lay. She watched, and she admired.

Creu sat with her back against the cold stone of the building, much too tired and broken to really do anything for herself. Before her, the rescuer stood over his victim; the man who had made her such. He panted and stepped away, sheathing his dagger into his belt. The man on the ground was alive; his heavy breathing was ragged and pained. There was a dull whimper from him. He hadn't stayed silent during his personal assault. She'd gotten to hear his voice plenty.

The man—he was actually a half-elf from what she could see in the dim light—turned to her with blood on his person. He crossed the gap to where she lay, dress torn and from the waist down still very naked. She wanted to draw back and protect herself, but his eyes didn't say he would take the place of the man he beat.

Creu found herself eyeing the blood as he bent to help her cover herself as best they could with what she had. A hoarse voice escaped her lips, though she hadn't screamed once. "Where did you stab him?"

The hands around her hips, tying what was left of her dress together, stopped. He turned his head up to look her in the eye. "Excuse me?"

_Half-elf,_ she confirmed, taking in his features. "I couldn't see."

The male looked back at the barely moving body behind him, then chuckled. "I didn't stab him. I cut something off."

She hated it, but a feeling of empowerment filled her. She hadn't done anything, so why should she feel like that?

"How much is gone?"

"Enough to matter." With a grin, he turned back to look at her. "He won't be able to do it again. Is that enough?"

She watched the new victim finally gain his feet and stumble out of the alley. She never saw his face.

"It's wonderful," she breathed.

* * *

><p>When they had her <em>covered<em>—she wouldn't say _presentable_, she hardly felt she would ever be presentable after such a night—the two, she and her rescuer, found a tavern in which they could clean up and rest. The lights inside were warm, and many happy drunks littered the floor, but Creu had lost her sense of delight. At first, the knowledge that her attacker had been justly dealt with was enough. However, after the walk to the tavern, even with the help of the half-elf, the pain was spiking and she knew she was bleeding into her dress.

After being directed to the bathroom, he slung her arm again over his shoulders and took her there to clean up. She lay on the floor as he cleaned her. Once again she was helpless.

She sat against the wall while he rummaged through her things for a clean dress and pushed herself into the familiar numbness. She pushed everything down, covering it thoroughly with heavy earth as she'd found had worked for her in the past. This time however, it came back up and at her with force. Shaking, she once again mentally shoved at the emotion, burying it again. This time she laid heavy stones over the earth.

He held up a black dress Dusk had given her, and she nodded that would do. She was nude, and he helped her into the garment, his rough hands gentle and understanding, yet forcing her to actively participate. There had been little said between them, and she wasn't sure what she felt about that.

Again the everything her stones were supposed to hold flew back up and she caught herself before she began to cry. She pushed it back and barely held it as her new companion again searched her bag. He pulled out a comb and brought it to her. In the process, her music box, dropped from the bag and onto the floor.

She reeled out against the pain to catch it. It fell into her palm, then rolled off onto the floor falling open. Luckily, she'd saved it from the impact and it was unhurt. The music began. It was a soft quiet tune she didn't know, but there was no saving her now. As the box fell open and the music began to play, she felt the earth break and she lost it.

Everything that had hurt in her short human life flooded back to her on the music. The man beside her saw it happen and caught her as she began to sob. It was violent, and she understood somewhere that he was probably trying to keep her from cracking her skull more than trying to comfort. But, it was contact, and she accepted it.

Creu clutched at him and bit into his shoulder armor. Her voice was loud and brassy, she knew it probably hurt his ear, but she couldn't stop. Every time her breath let out, she gasped it back in, then let it out once more. She thought the world might end before she stopped. She wanted to bite into something. Devour it.

Eventually though, she did stop. Eventually someone knocked on the door and they had to exit the bathroom. The man paid for a room with two beds, and they hurried upstairs past those who watched the young woman with the puffy red eyes as she was led away by the large half-elf in armor.

* * *

><p>Eventually they had to talk. The young man knew he could never offer the girl any personal help with her rape, or anything else that might bother her. He would have to leave her in the morning, and he would not be able to be there. It was clear to him that for whatever reason, she had never learned how to help herself in such away. And though she might have companions somewhere, it was his experience that one should be able to make it and care for all of his own needs by himself. This is what she needed to learn, and he would teach her how.<p>

He knew how he could help her.

* * *

><p>AN: An old D&D character.


End file.
